``And you want your wife?''

``I want revenge.''

``Of course--cash. Well, Ganser's a rich man. I should say he'd
give up a good deal to get rid of YOU.'' Loeb gave that
mirthless and mirth-strangling smile as he accented the ``you.''

``He's got to give up!'' said Feuerstein fiercely.

``Slowly! Slowly!'' Loeb leaned forward and looked into
Feuerstein's face. ``You mustn't forget.''

Feuerstein's eyes shifted rapidly as he said in a false voice:
``She got a divorce years ago.''

``M-m-m,'' said Loeb.

``Anyhow, she's away off in Russia.''

``I don't want you to confess a crime you haven't come to me
about,'' said Loeb, adding with peculiar emphasis: ``Of course,
if we KNEW you were still married to the Mrs. Feuerstein of seven
years ago we couldn't take the present case. As it is--the best
way is to bluff the old brewer. He doesn't want publicity;
neither do you. But you know he doesn't, and he doesn't know
that you love quiet.''

``Ganser treated me infamously. He must sweat for it. I'm
nothing if not a good hater.''